


Trousers, bitch.

by orphan_account



Series: Old Work of Despicable Quality [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Butts, Changing Room Sex, Jake being fussy about pants and things, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Unnecessarily long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Roxy takes Jake Trouser shopping, and things become distasteful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trousers, bitch.

“Jake, they look fine.”  
“Fine, fine. Okay they look fine, but you must understand that fine is not good and therin lies my quarrel.”  
Jake English, seventeen year old boy-wonder, studied his reflection in the full length mirror, not displeased with the way the trousers sat around his sensible waist but not precisely happy, and sighed.  
“It’s all very strange.” He clipped, in a soft, foreign accent. “Look, they squeeze my bottom and its not…” he pulled a face. “It looks a bit squarish don’t you think?”  
Roxy Lalonde rolled her eyes, glancing not-so-secretively at her watch.  
“Can you just choose a pair already? We’ve been here for an hour and I need a drink.”  
“No offense my dear friend, but you always need a drink.”  
It slipped out without meaning to and Jake immediately clapped his hand over his mouth, appalled at his irritable retort. Roxy seemed pretty indifferent, switching her weight onto one hip and brushing her hand through delicate blonde bangs.  
“Just hurry up.”  
“I’m sorry Roxy I didn’t mean-“  
“Whatever, whatever. If you need me I will be outside, okay?” she dropped the curtain back over Jake’s cubicle door, it fluttered in her wake. Jake watched it nervously, nibbling his bottom lip, thinking briefly that he hoped he hadn’t offended her or anything. He was still getting used to this ‘talking to IRL girls’ business. It was a lot harder than Dirk made it look.  
Sighing, he turned back to the mirror, and the stylish kahki shorts he was wearing. He liked them. He liked them a lot, the reason he had pulled them off the rack was because he thought they looked satisfyingly Bear Grylls, but they just didn’t look right on him. The pockets were a bit bulgy, and they fitted funny around his hips.  
Sighing, Jake stripped them off and dropped them on the pile with the other rejects, a pair of dark green skinny jeans and a pair of black ones. He pulled his trackpants back on, the dowdy old Nike ones he had loaned from Dirk’s floor that morning, and swung the other trousers over his shoulder with a miserable resignation.  
“Roxy.” He called to her, wincing when he opened the curtain and the bright sparkly lights of jay-jays teen fashion boutique slapped him fairly around the face. “Roxy I am finished now, we can go…”  
Roxy, however, was nowhere to be seen.  
Jake hadn’t really wanted to go trouser shopping in this part of town. It was quite busy, very much the sort of place fashionable young scallywags vamoosed to when they needed a new look to subscribe to, boasting everything from hot topic to billabong to H&M. This store was number four of some improbable amount, and a part of him knew that there was no way he was going to find a pair of bottoms which fitted his rear properly in any of these stores, but he didn’t have the heart to tell his friend no. he knew what she was like, and she wasn’t going to rest until she had crammed him into every pair of jeans this side of wal★mart, complaining the whole way about how parched she was.  
He would just have to go to the thrift store tomorrow, and acquire himself a pair that was already broken in. Hopefully, stretching and use will flex them comfortable enough around that part of his body with minimum fuss.  
Trying to fix an optimistic expression on his face, Jake dropped his unwanted pants on the armchair by the changing rooms, stepping cautiously out into the bright space, racks hung with clothing floating around him ominously. It was a bit like a jungle in here, he thought. Not a fun jungle either. A jungle filled with sparkly beads and overpriced man-bags, and girls giggling threateningly in corners. The soft pulse of remixed mainstream pop played over the speakers, Jake didn’t dislike it but he did think that to hear it, Dirk would have spewed his guts. Dirk, being quite the connoisseur of wicked tuneskis and sick beats, hated pop remixes. Especially ones of Katy Perry.  
“Roxy!” he spotted her by a scarf rack, studying the price tag on a particular hand knitted scarf with a critical eye. “Roxy hello, I’m finished. We can go and get some sort of repast now if you fancy.”  
Roxy jumped, dropping the scarf and turning to face him.  
“Did you pick some?”  
“Erm…” Jake held out his empty hands. “Sorry.”  
He received and eye roll in return.  
“You are ridiculous sometimes Jake, you know that? No point in stopping for lunch and drinks until we have found you some pants. Lets go, we still have Jeans West to visit.”  
“I have an idea. Perhaps we should just put off the old shopping spree and go back to the flat. My rear end is tired. Its hard work trying on all these clothes you know.”  
‘My rear end is tired’? Really? Jake was quiet appalled that that was the best he could do. Roxy huffed and pushed him matter-of-factly toward the front door of the shop.  
“We are going to jeans west. And I’m getting you to try some girls jeans. They generally have bigger asses on them.”  
“Oh hey now lets not be to hasty, chum.”  
“Shut up, Dr. Livingstone. Live adventurously.” Having made up her mind, she frogmarched him two shopfaces down the street to the next boutique, a wild-western style denim shop with fur-hooded jackets and miniskirts in the window. Neon lights and the beat of dubstep beckoned passers by in shiny designer clothing inside. Jake recoiled instinctually.  
“Roxy I really don’t-“  
“No.”  
“but-“  
“No.”  
“But-“  
“Jake.” She gave him a dry look, and Jake felt his masculinity shrivel a little. “Three pairs. Try three pairs. We aren’t leaving this shop until you have chosen one.”  
“…”  
It had always been a curse of his, lack of ability to be assertive. And rather than do the manly thing and laugh at her, Jake ran his hand through mussed black hair and sighed.  
“Fine.”  
“Fine? Fine is not good Jake~”  
“Ok!” he flushed, under the weight of peer pressure. “Ok. That sounds brilliant, smashing. Like a rip-roaring good time!”  
She smiled smugly.  
“Good. Good. Now hop to. We don’t have all day you know.”  
Thank god.

…

“Do you like these then?” Roxy shoved a pair of cutoff shorts at him irritably, and Jake whined, feeling a little bit victimised.  
“Roxy can I just-“  
“Try ‘em kid. You can’t walk around half naked.”  
“Well what if-“  
Jake was pushed into a changing room before he could finish, catching himself on the low bench against the wall and hitting his lower thigh. Swearing, he tried to erect himself, only to be ambushed by two pairs of jeans from above, the shorts she had given him crumpled in his hand.  
“I’ve thrown the other two in,” she informed him, dropping her weight on the closed cubicle door and folding her arms. “Try them both on as well.”  
“But Roxy-“  
“Ah!”  
“Rox-“  
“Ah!”  
Defeated, Jake wilted, dragging a pair of jeans off his shoulders and adjusting his glasses. This cubicle was nicer than the last one, with a large crepe paper globe lamp on the roof, and fairy lights strung around the mirror. He didn’t care for the way he looked in this light though, a little too tall and oddly shadowed. His shoulders looked big and his legs looked long. No wonder jeans didn’t fit him very well, on top of those pins his rear looked like a goddamned apple! Usually, Jake felt pretty good about the way his body looked. Sometimes, when no-one was home, he put on Dirk’s singlet top over his shortie underwear and ran around with toy guns because he liked to pretend he was Lara Croft, but oddly enough this light and scenario was not doing wonders for his self esteem. He told himself firmly he shouldn’t be thinking of things like that right now. He should be trying jeans.  
Jake stripped his trackpants off again, kicking them into the corner and then noticing that in the process his cellphone, a battered sanyo fliptop covered in skull stickers, had fallen on the ground. He grabbed it, opened it to check the time, and was surprised to see that there was a message on there from dirk.

_How goes the mission?_

Jake thought for a minute, glanced at the closed door, and keyed his reply.

 _Awful. Roxy is being positively draconian about it, and I cant find a pair of jeans that don’t make my bottom look like jameses giant peach_.

Jake wasn’t sure dirk would get the book/movie reference, but he sent it all the same.  
Humming softly he dropped the shorts on the bench, and reached for the first of the pairs of jeans. They were quite bad, purple even, and he knew that Roxy had only picked them because she liked pink and purple and other such delightful colours he wouldn’t be caught dead in. He unzipped the crotch, flicked them out, and yanked them on his legs, wincing when the denim didn’t yield to fit on his calves.  
“Roxy I cant get these on!”  
“Try the next ones then.”  
“Are these girls jeans, perchance.”  
“No, I thought you should try the boys jeans first. Okay, whiner guts?”  
Jake grumbled and yanked the pants off. He was just reaching for the next, a particularly unfortunate low crotch balloon style edifice, when his phone began playing one of Dirk’s beats quite obnoxiously, and he had to jump on it to answer.  
“Hello, Jake speaking?” he always answered this way, even though he already knew who was ringing. It was a habit, one he usually got a lot of shit for.  
“Hey Jake Speaking, is Mrs. Speaking home?”  
“Oh Haha. Very humorous.” Jake dropped the pants and straightened up, rubbing his cheek wearily. “Do you mind telling me what it is you are after? This is not a good time, I’m being held hostage right now and unless I chose some trousers I don’t think I will be home in time for dinner.”  
“Jake…” Roxy’s sing song voice carried through, “who are you talking to?”  
“Dirk!” he called back, jamming a finger into his spare ear and returning his attention to the phonecall. Waiting patiently on the far line, Dirk cleared his throat.  
“Well, I’m on the way home from work right now. Did you want me to stop by and give you a hand choosing?”  
“Um, I’m not sure…” Jake gnawed his lip, awkward front teeth digging in the groove they had made for themselves. “Roxy is being very…” he lowered his voice. “Well, I know she has the best intentions, but I must say that this shopping expedition has been strenuous at best. She has some very alternative ideas on what constitutes a nice pair of trousers.”  
“So that’s a yes?” Dirk responded, deadpan as usual.  
“…” another anxious glance at the door, Jake fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt. He probably would feel more comfortable, if Dirk was here to help him. Dirk was a really honest, kind hearted guy, and he wasn’t pushy in quite the same way Roxy was. Perhaps he would listen to Jake’s pants-related concerns, and give him feedback more constructive than ‘whatever, just pick a pair already!” but then, if he showed up, he would have to ask Roxy to go home, and sometimes Roxy could be a bit sensitive. It was a little risky, especially since this whole shopping thing seemed so important to Jake’s pretty, alcoholic friend.  
“Yes please that would be really brilliant of you.”  
“Ok. Hold tight bro I will be there in a moment.”  
Jake sighed and dropped his cellphone on his trackpants.  
“Roxy Dirk’s on his way here okay?” he hoped that she wouldn’t argue, bending to swing the hideous purple pants up and set them over the changing room door.  
“What?” she didn’t sound impressed. “Why is he coming? I thought you wanted my help with this.”  
“I do Roxy, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had a right jolly time today but I think I just need some bro advice on this decision okay? Nothing against you and your feminine wiles or anything of the sort. He won’t bother you?”  
Some distant grumbling, which Jake took to be a ‘fine then whatever Trevor’, and he sighed in relief.  
Hopefully, Dirk would help him cast some sort of decision, be it to buy the parachute-jeans or walk around nude from now on. Jake hoped it would not be the latter.

…

The sound of Roxy tutting alerted Jake to Dirk’s arrival, and he touched his chest subtly in relief, trying to catch his fingers on the top of the changing room door and peek over. He could do so, if he stood on his tip-toes.  
“We were waiting for you.” She told Dirk, in quite a mothering sort o tone. “What took you so long?”  
“I got a pair of jeans off the rack for him.”  
“He’s got jeans.”  
“Yes but he might not like those. And they probably won’t fit him.” It was then Dirk spotted his friend, peeking over the top of the cubicle.  
“Oh hey bro.”  
“Hey.” Jake smiled, but it was probably hidden by the door. “Are those for me?”  
“Mhmm.” Dirk offered them forward and Roxy moved so he could. “These will fit properly okay?”  
“Um… we will see.” Jake took the jeans and pulled them back over the door. He did appreciate the gesture though, because as it were he really did appreciate Dirk. “I need you to tell me what you think though. Come in here and help me out?”  
“Sure.” Dirks expression, on his handsome, freckled face, remained unreadable even as he pulled his comical sunglasses off and passed them to Roxy, who sighing with affectionate irritation slipped them into her bag. Now that dirk could see properly, in this odd light, he didn’t hesitate to slip into the cubicle beside Jake, who was waiting in his underwear still, jeans over his arm, socks pooling around his ankles.  
“Good of you to shave.” He stated, unusually topaz eyes noting the fine dark hair on Jake’s bare legs. “Seeing as you were expecting company and all.”  
“Very funny. Now move so I can have some space.”  
It was very cramped in the cubicle, and together they had too many elbows and legs to really be comfortable. Dirk ended up sitting on the bench with the unwanted pants on his lap, while Jake wormed his way into the newest pair, which were a relatively nice stonewashed blue colour, and cut suspiciously like flares.  
“I don’t know about the style, chum.” Jake stated as he fiddled with the unusually short fly. “flares seem a bit ABBA for me.”  
“Let’s not focus on the style right now okay. We are looking for jeans that fit your ass. We can’t be too picky.”  
“Hey! Leave my posterior alone. It’s not the biggest ever okay?”  
“No ones saying it’s big, its just very… um…” dirk frowned briefly, eyes glancing the backside in question and shaking his head to dismiss the thought. “Round?”  
“So big, in other words?” Jake huffed and turned his back to the mirror, looking over his shoulder to see the rear view. “Why don’t you just say it, Dirk. My bottom is gargantum. It’s ridiculously huge, ludicrously ginormous. It deserves its own area code, doesn’t it?”  
Dirk pressed his lips together and tried not to look. This statement could not possibly have been further from the truth.  
Jakes ass, if you were going to ask a self proclaimed expert on the matter, was probably one of the best this side of a surgeons table, the nicest natural cheeks which had ever deigned to grace Dirk’s computer seat. It wasn’t big at all, just perfect in every imaginable way, from the curve which spilled from Jake’s tucked tailbone, over the bubble against which the jean denim stretched, and then back under the crease where ass began to meat back-of thigh. Dirk was probably the last man on earth to admit out loud that Jake’s behind was only the hottest thing since shawty got low, but if ever the opportunity to squeeze it came around, he would probably do so until it bruised, and Jake couldn’t sit down for a week.  
“Don’t be silly, Jake. Here.” He leaned forward and pulled on the waist, dragging it down a centimetre or two so that it sat in the right place, as opposed to right under the ribs like Jake had been aiming for. “No wonder they weren’t fitting right. If you were trying to wear them up there you deserve to look like a proud lifetime member of the dick brigade.”  
“… Oh.” surprised by this turn of events, Jake turned sideways to study the way the pants were now, lifting the hem of his t-shirt so he could see how it looked around underneath his stomach button. “Oh now well that makes more sense…”  
“You are so clueless, English. What would you do without me?”  
Jake gave him a sheepish smile and adjusted his glasses.  
“Well, I would probably have a considerable wedgie…”  
“Probably, bro. Probably.” And then Dirk gave him the tiniest increment of a smile, and Jake’s heart leapt to his throat, choking him when he went to ask Dirk to pass the shorts.  
“What?”  
“I said kindly pass me those shorts. I want to try them on too.”  
“Um, okay?” dirk looked at them in puzzlement, before passing them over. “Does it bother you that they are wider than they are long?”  
“A little, but I promised Roxy I would.”  
“Damn straight!” she called over the door, and Dirk jumped, having forgotten she was even there. “And I want pictures too kiddo. Nice ones, that I can put on the internet and stuff.”  
“Ahahaha…” Jake laughed, and then trailed off awkwardly, unsure if she was being serious. Under Dirk’s calm, comforting gaze, he began to divest himself of his trousers again.  
Dirk watched the show with distanced, pained admiration.  
Dirks ‘crush’ on Jake was no secret between the two of them, okay. It was more sort of something that Jake had just accepted about him, like the way he usually always wore his sunglasses, unless he was sleeping or trying to focus on something important like studying. It didn’t really bother Jake that much, in fact over time he kind of grew to appreciate it. Having Dirk around, soft feelings for him in his back pocket, Jake found that he had much more than a simple ‘best bro’ he could go to about things like girls. He had a best bro he could go to about things that he wouldn’t normally go to anyone for. Things like borrowing clothes and toothbrushes, helping him pick pants, and helping him wash his messed up wet-dream sheets without complaint or awkward comment at all. It didn’t feel weird or uncomfortable, and it didn’t once occur to him that such emotional advantage taking was probably a bit cruel, because Dirk simply gave what he could when he could in any way he could anyway. Such were the ways of the handsome, blonde haired youth.  
With his jeans off Jake unzipped the fly of the shorts and bent forward waistly, in order to hook them over his ankles and hitch them up his thighs. They were tight and uncomfortable, and wouldn’t get all the way up.  
“Did you want a bigger size?” Dirk asked, keeping his cool about him, fingers brushing through the sidebangs of hair which fuzzed over the tops of his cheeks. Jake pulled a face and tried to yank them up some more.  
“Yes please that would be rather appreciable.”  
With a sigh, Dirk stood and edged past the other, tapping lightly on the cubicle door.  
“Roxy can I come through?”  
She shuffled aside and he managed to slip through, disappearing back into the cluttered floor of the shop and leaving Jake some space to really start yanking the fuck out of his short jeans.  
The stupid things just would not fit over his butt!  
Perhaps he needed a better size. Not that he wanted to walk around wearing these things anyway but all the same. The experience, in which one has an ass too big for anything, is a hurtful one regardless of age or gender. It significantly bruised jakes man-mana, and he would never admit but he had decided almost as soon as they first caught that when he got home he was going on a strict veges only diet. No more microwave noodles for him.  
He sighed, tipped his head up, and decided on one final attempt. Attempt in this context translating to him sucking in his every last breath, squeezing his butt as tight as he could, and using all his strength to wedge the shorts over his rump.  
He almost toppled over when it worked, the waistband of the shorts gave and slid over his behind and back up around his hips. Actually, the band was a good size for him, it didn’t squeeze his stomach too tight. He wished he could say the same for his bottom but hey you win some you loose some and Jake was far to excited about his minor triumph to care that one bend, one wrong stride, and those shorts would be splitting like a teabag full of elephants, his backside falling out and his favourite Indiana Jones shorties on display.  
“Budge over, bro.”  
Jake jumped when the cubicle door edged open and Dirk re-entered, new pair of trousers on his arm.  
“Oh gosh, sorry chum, you startled me.”  
“Don’t apologise, just step back a little so I can…”  
Dirk trailed off, his line of thought swirling down the sink of indecency with a cheerful gurgle. Jake frowned, and regarded him with puzzlement, reaching out a hand to tap his cheek.  
“Okay there big guy?”  
But he could see what dirk could see.  
Jake, fortunately for him, could not see how endless and tight his legs looked, the particular sun honeyed tone of an athlete which glimmered on his thighs. Jake could not see the way the leg holes on his shorts, already much to short as they were, curved up graciously to give way for his behind, exposing the hem of his underwear and cheeky slice of cushion where leg bean to merge with glute. Jake couldn’t see the particular way the seams on his sides were stretching, complaining of the pressure inside them, and he definitely couldn’t see the way those shorts lifted his buttocks, flattering an already perfect ass to unheard of levels of lushness. A plush rump, Dirk would call it in his own, private little world, but out loud all he could manage was a strange whine, his hands balling to fists, his colour rising in his neck and around his ears. Goddamnit why had he given Roxy his sunglasses? He really could have used their neutralising factors right about now. From that moment on, he vowed never to remove the eyewear again.  
“Um, Dirk? Is everything all hunky dory?”  
Ahaha hunky yes. Hell yes. Hell FUCKING yes. Dory… not so much.  
“Jake you cant wear those shorts.” He stated flatly, eyes not moving from the way the denim creaked as Jake glanced down, and switched his weight onto his other leg.  
“Yes I know that,” Jake replied, “they wouldn’t fit that’s all, and I suppose I rose a little to the challenge. I’m actually just about to take them off…”  
Oh dear.  
As much as Dirk wanted that, (the image of Jake in these pants was going to be burned into his retinas FOREVER,) hearing him say that he was going to remove them was like being told he was about to remove Dirk’s arm. Fact was, in that small moment Dirk, who was always a little cynical about objectum sexuality despite spending most of his puberty sleeping with a puppet, had fallen head over heals in love with those shorts. Or at least, with the way they made his best bro’s butt look. And he hadn’t even gotten to touch it! That just wasn’t on, okay? Dirk was a calm and collected guy, and using these skills of down-to-earthess and placidness in the face of severe jimmie rustling, he was going to fucking get a grope! Now, he thought. How was he going to best go about that…?  
“Oops!” he dropped his cellphone, in a way so ridiculously un-smooth he would look back on it later and bang his head lamely on the shower wall. “dropped my cellphone!”  
Jake, sensing something odd about the way this event occurred, gave him a suspicious, bewildered look.  
“Um…”  
“Oops.” Dirk nudged his phone violently with his foot, so it scooted across the carpet forty or so centimetres, and ended up on the other side of the space, behind Jake. “Kicked it on my way to pick it up. Be a bro and get that or me?”  
Okay that, he thought to himself, was the most pathetically un-swag way anyone has ever done anything. What was he thinking? He couldn’t event pass that off as irony! Surely not even Jake English was going to fall for that!  
And yet…  
He did.  
Still looking puzzled, Jake glanced over his shoulder at the phone on the ground and sniffed, scratching his neck absently.  
“Well… okay then? That was clumsy…”  
“I know right?” Dirk pressed his lips together and tried not to look nervous. Come on Jake, he willed, do it for brother…  
“Uh… hang on a sec.”  
Jake turned away, went to bend forward at the waist to pick it up but experienced severe trouser related resistance. So it was that he ended up having to bend his knees out and his body forward to retrieve it, and it probably would have been comical to anyone looking from side on.  
Dirk, however, was not regarding the scene from side on. He couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t totally fantasizing about slapping that butt damn fucking hard, so hard that Jake fell forward and the damn shorts ripped. He was going to do it then too, before trying his luck with convincing Jake it was a joke, but miserably the moment he chose to move his hand forward happened to coincide with the moment Jake chose to straighten up and turn around, and Dirk ended up with his hand firmly planted on Jake’s crotch.  
The awkward silence that followed probably would have ranked in the top three of all time.  
“Um, dirk?”  
He couldn’t move his hand away now, that was only going to draw even more attention to it goddamn it! Dirk was pretty sure he had never been so humiliated in his life. Not even when his brother found his my little pony hentai.  
“… Yeah?”  
“… Here’s your phone.”  
“Um… thanks.” He didn’t even glance at it, rising in his peripheral vision as Jake lifted it slowly, too busy trapped staring barefaced into Jake’s wide green eyes. “I um…”  
“You were trying to touch my bottom weren’t you.”  
It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and Dirk couldn’t deny it, letting his bright red cheeks and un-lensed eyes answer for him.  
“… I’m not an expert on changing room etiquette but I’m not sure that doing so is appropriate cubicle behaviour.”  
Dirk shook his head numbly.  
“… You can let go of my equipment now, Dirk.”  
“I um…”  
Well, Dirk could let go of Jake’s junk. Sure. He could let go of his junk, laugh it off, and return to being swag and chill and not-so-subtly ragingly gay. Or he could just fucking go for it for fucks sake, because it wasn’t as though he hadn’t done it a million times in his mind, and it wasn’t as though he had no idea what he was going to do. He knew every singe detail, in fact, from the way he was going to kiss the boy to the way he was going to squish that ass in his hot little hands. He knew every little tint of colour that flecked Jake’s skin, and every angle of his face and arms. And now he knew how his dick felt too. Was he really going to walk away from that?  
No. No. Hell fucking no.  
Jake jumped almost out of his skin when the hand not clamped over his crotch grabbed his shoulder, arm curling around his back and yanking him forward. He had only a split second to suck breath before Dirk’s lips were sealing on his, and for instinctual reasons rather than because he was enjoying what happened, he found himself grabbing back, arms flung around Dirk’s neck tight. This was taken as a cue to continue, the kiss parting and then sweeping together again, Jake tripping backward and landing with a muted thump against the wall.  
“Golly!” he had a moment to hiss an exclamation, as Dirk re-calibrated himself, moving his arms so that he was fortressing his bro in with one hand either side of his head. “I sure hadn’t been counting on that, you know!”  
“Shut up.” Dirk kissed him quiet briefly, then tossed his bangs back off his brow. He had fucked this up so far, and he was not letting that mistake go any further. “Just shut up for a bit okay? Can you do that?”  
“…” Jake tried to asses this question, but struggled for some reason. Perhaps it was the proximity of dirks body, the warm smooth planes of his chest, and the closeness of his fine face, strange eyes flickering in the bright cubicle light. He could see the fine bladed detail of his nose, the light which glowed on the top of his cheekbones. He felt his stomach flip flop, which was odd because he usually only felt that when he was watching Avatar, or some other movie with cerulean skinned beauties in.  
“Okey dokey.”  
So Dirk kissed him again with a reasonable amount of passion, hoping that Roxy wouldn’t notice they had been quiet for too long, and peek in. it would be very much her sort of thing to do, cockblock him by dunken accident. He at least wanted to get a grope, by the time this little exploit was through.  
Jake, too confused about what was happening to complain, simply threaded his fingers in Dirk’s hair and let him go for it. After all, it wasn’t as though Jake hadn’t thought about it. Like… maybe he had anticipated it being a little more talked about? A little more planned? But you know what running at it like a bull at a gate was good too. He wasn’t going to complain. Dirk was a damn fine kisser and his mouth tasted like jelly babies, which Jake could only assume he had been eating earlier for some reason, otherwise, it was a bit of an arbitrary thing to taste like. Fingers wandered down the sides of Dirk’s neck, to his shoulders, and curled tightly into them. He tried to push himself a little off the wall, but had some difficulty.  
“Help?” a soft word, formed by the lips that glided over his cheek on their way to his ear. He nodded and shifted one hand to remove his glasses, swinging them off his face by one leg and letting them dangle from one of the hands over Dirk’s shoulders. Dirk dropped his grip to Jake’s waist, running his palms along it, over the tight seams of his shorts and around, until finally, finally he was holding that ass.  
It was firm and rounded, springy, he fancied he could bounce quarters off it, if he so chose. He didn’t end up doing this though, rather he let his left hand wander further, down the back of Jake’s thigh, with ambitions of drawing the other boys leg up against his hip so that he would be a little higher and a little more erect against his chest.  
He had managed to lift that leg only an increment, when a loud, obnoxious split tore the intimacy, and echoed in the silence that followed.  
“…”  
“…?”  
“Hey what are you boys doing in there?” Roxy knocked on the door with the back of her knuckles, swaying idly and wanting to just go back home already, and get some martini on.  
“Nothing!” Jake called back in shaky reply, still frozen in the exact same position as he had been before the noise, Dirk still against him with his face buried unmoving against his neck. He could feel the others shallow breath brushing against his collar, even through the mortification that was beginning to register in his mind.  
“What just happened?” Dirk asked lowly, in little more than a whisper. “Did I just hurt you?”  
“Um… no.” trying his best to be secretive, Jake wriggled one hand from Dirk’s shoulder down his arm, over his hip and thigh, and then pressed it against the wall behind him. He tried to sink down, off the points he hadn’t even realised Dirk had drawn him to, and lower his other leg, with minimal success. He noticed, in the process, that Dirk was beginning to sport a wily little hard-on there, and instantly felt guilt fall into his gut. That would probably be being addressed by now, if it hadn’t been for his own stupid mistake.  
“Are you sure? What happened?”  
“I um…” Jake wasn’t quite positive, but he did have a sinking feeling about the nature of what had just transpired. He lifted his hand cautiously, and without turning his head, still breathing a little irregularly he ghosted his hand over his butt. What he felt when he did so immediately convinced him he wanted to die on the spot. “I just split these shorts.”  
Well Dirk didn’t quite know what to think.  
“You…”  
“The shorts!” Jake repeated urgently, trying to scramble back up the wall. “I’ve ripped the shorts oh god Dirk what do I do? This isn’t good okay, this is NOT good! This is positively catastrophic!” his face was the particular red colour of ketchup, under the rich caramel of his skin. Although Jake wasn’t usually the type to suffer anxiety, especially over something as trivial as this, panic was setting in now fast, and it was Dirk’s job to try and contain it. The franticly tight fingers curling on his arms made that very clear. “Dirk! Do something!”  
Well Dirk had absolutely no idea what the hell he was supposed to be doing. In an attempt to salvage the situation though, he immediately moved his hands down and popped open the button on the fly of Jake’s torn shorts. This wasn’t what the other boy was looking for, because he yelped and tried to push the assisting hands away, but it happened anyway and from there Dirk dropped right down, pulling the shredded trousers with him.  
“Dirk!”  
“Shh man, let me take care of it okay?” he tapped Jake’s ankles in a gesture to lift his feet, and remove the shorts in question. “It’s okay, we will sort it out.”  
“I jolly well hope so!” the slight nervous twitch was audible in his voice, and Dirk, after removing them and casting them into a corner, sighed, staying crouched on the floor and catching his index fingers in either one of Jake’s white cotton socks. “Oh dear. How am I supposed to pay for that! This is a very bad think dirk a really-“  
“Sh.” Dirk silenced him with a look, and Jake lulled into uneasy waiting, trying to figure out what was going through his friends mind. The boys locked eyes unflinching, for almost a whole twenty seconds, before Dirk sighed.  
“Roxy.” He called, picking up the sorts and tapping his knuckles on the door. “I’m throwing a pair of shorts over. Can you slam dunk them in the returns basket?” he wrapped them in the other reject trousers, and Jake’s heart jumped. Was he really going to get away with that?  
“Sure.” Roxy’s voice chimed back. “Then I may as well leave you boys alone. Jane just text me, she wants me to come get a coffee with her, okay?”  
“Sounds great.” Dirk threw the balled clothes over the top of the door. “You two ladies have as ass-slappingly good time. Can I have my shades back?”  
“I’m scooting them under the door.”  
Sure enough, there they were, pushed under the door smoothly and matter of fact. Dirk scooped them up and set them on the bench, before returning his attention to Jake.  
“Now.” The sound of Roxy dropping clothes in the bin and then tapping her way out of the dressing room area on pretty heals only emphasized the understanding Jake felt that they were alone. The way Dirk was looking at him made him distinctly uncomfortable, but if possible in only the best way. “Where were we?”  
“Dirk I think it would be best if we paused this wee voyage into the unknown right now and pursue it later. I’m still a little worried about those shorts…” and he was. He was trying to work out what in the name of Christ he was supposed to do if the store people discovered what had happened while he was still in the shop. Also, the fact that he had been having the fierce snog with his best friend while tearing the shorts. It was all a very convoluted mess, really, and poor Jake didn’t know what to think. Dirks thoughts, however, did indeed have some direction.  
“Don’t think about them.” He stated simply. “Just stay there and don’t complain. You need to learn to be a little less about the consequences and a little more about the doing shit.”  
He dropped to his knees again and immediately brought his hand up to touch the crotch of Jake’s shorts.  
“You can pay me back later.”  
A little cry of shock escaped Jake, when Dirk swept in and pressed his mouth to the cloth which restrained his dick, the hand not massaging the area lightly sneaking around back to kneed his right ass cheek. This was succeeded by Dirk’s other hand, leaving him only his mouth to address Jake’s crotch, and although Jake should have been able to shove away such an advance with ease, he found himself caught in the position by a combination of shock, arousal, and desire as ignited by the way Dirk was kissing him before. What was this, he asked himself. What was going on? Surely this was some kind of misunderstanding…  
Although he didn’t quite know what sort of misunderstanding could possibly exist to a fellow who was trying to suck your cock, even through the cotton of your knickers.  
“M-Mister strider…”  
Dirk liked the way that sounded, like a little swoon which trailed into a light whimper of pleasure. Mister strider, eh?  
“Mister English?” he lifted an eyebrow, and hoped very deeply that his stunning, unusual eyes would have precisely the effect they earned. Jake pressed his lips together and struggled to remain composed.  
No such luck.  
“Oh my mister Strider!”  
Hands fell uselessly to Dirk’s hair and tied in it as he held jakes waistband out of the way, semi-flaccid cock drawn in its entirety into his mouth. The tremor that shook jakes legs was powerful, and it was lucky the wall behind served as a support. Dirk sighed softly and pulled off the others cock, drawing it out between his lips and feeling it plumping against his tongue. Jake moaned, eyes dropping to his friends face, and he thought briefly that Dirk looked so different down there like that. Almost totally another person. His lips, which were usually so straight and thin and set with critical haughtiness, were parted around the rosing head of Jake’s erection. Dirk’s nose, which was so razorblade straight and precise, looking direct and even longer without shades to cut it. His freckled cheeks, his eyebrows arching pale and graceful… and those eyes, lowered seductively as he focused on his work, Jake relished being able to see Dirk’s usually hidden eyes, and admiring the lovely, nearly almond shape. He could almost see the young mans eyelashes, short and straight, flickering as he blinked and tossed his hair off his face. He licked his lips, gave Jake’s exposed penis a gentle tug, and went back down, which Jake hadn’t been expecting and made him positively whine, hoping like fuck no-one was anywhere near the changing room enough to hear. Dirk’s mouth was warm and wet, as dictated by every clichéd blow-job recount ever, but Jake, if he had been capable of logical thought processes at that time, would probably have pointed out that while it was very stereotypically pleasurable, there was definitely something more to it. Something intangible, that cannot be explained, about the way Dirk’s tongue taunted against his withdrawn foreskin, and sometimes the face of his teeth brushed ever so gently against the tip of his cock.  
He squirmed, feeling a little more than just hot under the collar, and wished that Dirk would stop lapping at the tip already and suck the thing. As an adventurer, Jake thought of himself as a sort of no-pissing about sort of a fellow, although the past days shopping would have suggested otherwise. He was feeling all very impatient, and thoughts along this line, in conjunction with the not-quite-enough good feelings he was receiving, were the guilty party when it came to the idea that struck him next. A very dirty, very delicious sounding idea. He decided it was much too late for dignity now, anyway. And the gentleman’s thing to do was just see it through to the end.  
“Uh… D-Dirk?”  
Dirk looked up, somehow managing to look just as bored and calm as always, even with a mouthful of dick. He lifted an eyebrow in question, and Jake felt a stab of envy because goddamnit he could never do that how did Dirk manage he didn’t know.  
“… May I?” Jake tugged gently on his hair, “I mean its great and all but I would really appreciate if I could have the reins? Just for a bit?”  
He received in return a look that suggested ‘absolutely not’ and Dirk pulled his lips off jakes cock, a dewy bead of spit stung from his bottom lip.  
“Well, well, well. English.” He wiped it aside and “Don’t you trust me?”  
“N-no its not that.”  
Dirk sighed.  
“Stupidly enough, the only thing Jake English has enough balls to be sceptical about in this world are pants and my oral sex skills.”  
“Shhhhhh!” Jake silenced him swiftly. “None of that! You can’t say those sorts of things out loud or someone will hear!”  
Dirks eyes rolled, and a wave of surreality hit. Did the guy usually do that and all? Was it just conveniently enough usually hidden behind his glasses? Dirk had never seemed to Jake, as the sort of guy to roll his eyes  
“Then shut me up, bro.” his hands slid down jakes bear legs and he dropped his face down again, lips brushing the hoisted erection before him as he spoke. “Sometimes you are so ridiculous, you know?”  
Jake swallowed, too anxious to be bothered by this, and slid one hand down to Dirk’s cheek.  
“Look at me.”  
“Hm?”  
“Look at me strider.” With a slightly firmer voice, still low for the publicness of the place this was happening, Jake addressed his friend, letting his thumb run over the other mans cheek and his eyes take in every detail of his face. How was Dirk so handsome? How had ne never before noticed? It was like he was looking at the man for the first time, sliding his thumb between his lips and prying his jaw loosely open, enough for him to feed his dick through the part in some kind of daze. Dirk took it, eyes shutting, and tucked his left thumb into his palm, though this gesture was missed by Jake. Slowly, Jake English’s dick slid into Dirk Striders mouth. It met no resistance, though under the carefully maintained faced of composure, Dirk was squeezing his thumb so hard it hurt and forcing his throat to relax. Finally, when his nose nudged the taught muscles of Jake’s stomach, and his chin nestled neatly in between the other boys thighs, Dirk groaned, and Jake above him lost all the cool he never had and then some, withdrawing swiftly and making as fast as he could to slide back in.  
This felt so. Jolly. Good.  
Dirk’s hands slid up the back of his thighs to his ass, much more calmly then he felt, and let his fingers glide over the cloth stretched over his behind, feeling the elastic of those undies taught under his chin. That fucking ass oh god it was going to drive him mad. The way it yielded under his fingers, the roundness, the fullness, the perfect tight bounce.  
“M-mister strider could you please refrain from- ah!” Jake swore when Dirk grunted, squeezing tightly and pulling a little back against the hands that held him on Jake’s dick. “touching my ASS! BALLS DIRK!”  
“Shh!” Dirk removed himself completely and managed a peeved expression, despite the fact that Jake’s outburst had scared him shitless. “If you aren’t careful the manager will catch us. And then we will be killed stuffed and chucked in the goddamned window display. Do you want to be a stuffed half naked corpse with a boner in some guys window display?”  
“… No.”  
“Right. So fuck up.”  
And Dirk went right back to work, Jake not complaining at all as he felt that ass to his hearts content, squeezing it, rubbing it… it probably wouldn’t have been a bother, save for the fact that it felt wonderful. Even more so on top of the positively spankily good sensations he was feeling as Dirk gave him head, not even having to guide the other anymore with the hands in his hair. With a weak, wracked noise Jake let his head roll back in bliss, and curled his toes in the carpet of the cubicle. Dirk’s jeans rustled as he slid sideways off his knees, to get more comfortable. This patient momentum carried on for a good three minutes, punctuated only by half groans and the occasional stroke to blonde, headwinded hair, before that ‘good’ feeling became the familiar ‘really good and somewhat frustrating’ feeling of impending orgasm. Jake grumbled something obscure, and tried to push Dirk off with three fingers against pale, warm forehead, with minimum success. Dirk simply sucked a little harder as he slid back, clamping his hand around the base of Jake’s cock and rubbing it gently, head still held in his mouth. The thick unpleasant taste of precome was all over his tongue, and it was a combination of this and saliva that glistened over his chin, but the feeling of it was somewhat satisfactory. Knowing that it was actually from Jake, not just the drool of uncountable wet dreams, gave Dirk a very strong sense of triumph. He was going to be damn fucking proud of his smooth, romancing, sock-knocking charms later on down the track. Yes yes yes. As Jake’s climax drew nearer, so too did the climax of Dirk’s self image, his idea of himself as some kind of cool-ass Casanova, able to make them cum with a look a lick and a smile.  
“Dirk I’m going to come soon.” Jake made it quite clear, speaking in a hush between gritted teeth. It sounded much more together than he felt, and later he might even be proud of himself for it. “Unless you want it in your mouth I would s-suggest you mmm…”  
Dirk flicked his tongue over the very pinnacle of Jake’s flushed cock and thought for a moment. As much as he wasn’t mad for the idea of swallowing some guys spunk, it was Jake’s spunk. Dirk certainly did like the idea of having some part of Jake inside of him… in a non-insertive sort of a way.  
Oh what the hell. Jake liked gentlemanliness and all that sort of stuff. Perhaps he could set aside his cool aloofness for just once, and do the tidy, respectable thing.  
He closed his eyes again and carefully placed the tip of Jake’s penis in his mouth, jerking the remainder gently and bringing his subject steadily closer and closer to the end.  
Jake was startled, but had no time to complain when that masturbating started. He was left instead huffing, breath irregular and catching as his muscles began to seize, his stomach firming and the taughtness of his frame extending all the way up his spine. He focused briefly on purposefully building the feeling, trying to tense up even in between his shoulders and right up his neck, though he struggled because he only remembered to do so last moment. Jake had had small, satisfying orgasms before but if there was one thing a boy who grew up in almost total isolation had plenty of it was time, and sometimes time was well spent teaching yourself ways to have mind blowing orgasms. This method of total body paralysis before release wasn’t the best, but it was certainly effective, and as Dirk calmly brought him to peak both boys were somewhat startled by the long, sexy moaning noise that escaped him, the tight-rope tower of muscle and sinew collapsing into the pit of his stomach and then bursting again in undulations of perfect sensation. Most of his cum arced directly into Dirk’s mouth, but some missed when at the taste that cool had broken and his friend had moved away, only to feel the rest flay across his cheeks and nose.  
Jake took a long time to recover.  
His legs were still shaking when he opened his eyes, his breath short and shallow. In the moment it took for his eyes to re-focus, Dirk wiped some of the semen off, standing and uptucking his own boner with practiced discretion, absentmindedly he noted, much to his un-cool ire, Jake was still taller, even slumped against a changing room wall.  
“Alright bro?”  
“… Smashing.” Jake managed, staring at the un-glassed, cum smeared youth facing him. Dirk nodded stiffly, not donating even a smile to the cause, and reached past for his sunnies on the clothing bench.  
“Better put the trackpants on then. Did you want to get any jeans in the end or not?”  
“… Not I think.”  
“Okay.” Dirk re-set his glasses and turned, bending to retrieve Jakes/his trackpants and offering them back. “Be fucking quick alright. We don’t have all day. What?”  
He noticed Jake looking at him, in that stupidly adorable but somehow naive way, as though he had never seen him before in his life.  
“You… have something on your face.”  
“I do?”  
“Yes. Here. Let me relieve you of It.” a thumb padded away the last of the ejaculate which glistened by the flare of Dirk’s right nostril.  
“That’s much better.”  
“Great. Thanks man.”  
“Not a problem. Hey Dirk?”  
“What?”  
And then it was Jake’s turn to kiss him.


End file.
